This was one of the most expensive places she had ever lived in. It was incredible to think that this was her home now. By most standards, it was amazing. By her standards, it was opulent. Too much even. The apartment was in Brooklyn, and she looked out of the window at the New York Harbor. She could see the Statue of Liberty from her bedroom. It was incredible. Turning at the sound of a knock on the door, she walked over and opened the door to the bedroom. Gabrielle Meyers, also known as Feather, walked in. She was still a little banged up from everything that had happened with Derek Sheppard attacking S.H.I.E.L.D. After everything that had happened in Brazil, with the fire, Andy had been given a few days of personal leave and had missed everything that had happened with Derrek's attack. Anderson gave her a small smile as Gabrielle walked into the room.

"Is everything okay? I wanted to make sure that everything was okay." She said, with her noticeable French accent.

Andy nodded. "Everything is great. It's...a bit much to be honest. I've never had anything this nice."

Gabrielle smiled. "Well, this is your home now. We're roommates and it's going to be great, I guarantee it."

"You're sure that Tiffany will be okay with this? This is her apartment." Anderson replied and Gabrielle nodded.

"We shared the apartment and the rent. You're just taking over for her. She's off with Jason anyway." Gabrielle said, referring to Tiffany's...boyfriend of sorts, Jason Free, also known as Mister Miracle. "Besides, do you want me to be lonely? I'm grumpy when I'm lonely. I'm French."

"I thought French people liked being alone." Anderson said, raising an eyebrow as she sat down on the bed.

It didn't look like Gabrielle minded the dig on her ancestry and ethnicity. "We like being moody there's a difference." Gabrielle said with a shrug of her shoulders, as if Anderson should have known that and as if she was mildly insulted that Anderson hadn't known it.

"What am I getting myself into?"

"You needed a place. I have a place. We can't have S.H.I.E.L.D. agents living on the streets and being homeless, can we?" She asked and Anderson smiled. "It's weird for you, isn't it?" She asked and Andy nodded. "I can only imagine. Going from being a professional delinquent to an upstanding member of an organization concerned with law and order. That has to be a dramatic shift." She said.

Anderson laughed. "Professional delinquent. I like that. I might need business cards for that. You're right, it has been a little jarring. Throw this place on top of it and it's been a lot for me to deal with."

"If you want, I can get a cardboard box and you can camp in the living room." Gabrielle said.

"It was never that bad." Andy said.

"Right, well, I have some things I need to take care of, so I'll see you in the morning. We can plan a night out for tomorrow. Go get boys. Make them do things. I won't use my powers. Maybe. You can teach me about being a delinquent professionally." Gabrielle said, as she headed out of the room, giving Anderson a little wave.

She hadn't been completely truthful with Gabrielle. While yes, it had never been that bad, Andy had slept some nights in her car. It had been a different life, during different times. Getting caught and being forced down the straight and narrow path might have been the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had been convinced, down in Brazil, that she was going to die, during that mission. But Tiffany and Gabrielle had come back for her. They hadn't abandoned her, they hadn't given up hope. No one had ever really done that for her, and she was incredibly grateful for it. Resolving to at least give Nick Fury's offer of this powered criminal rehabilitation program a shot, Andy was on her way to becoming a great S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D. had caught her and put her between a rock and a hard place in making the decision to join the program. However, once she had decided to join the program, they had been behind her, pushing her and helping her to become a better person. The least she could do would be to give it a shot.

In the morning, she would be given her next assignment. For tonight, she had to figure out how to sleep in a bed that looked more comfortable than any she had had in the past.

Welcome to Oz. Ruled by the great and powerful wizard; the one and only Nick Fury. Hawkeye thought to himself as the chopper flew him quickly from the pickup sight to the man made island HQ of S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn't fond of the island, never had been. Even back when he was in military training he hated the place. There was just something ominous about a man made land mass that housed some of the most dangerous and skilled individuals in the world in their various fields. It just made Ethan a bit......uncomfortable.

He though back on the first time he had seen the island. He had been flown in on a helicopter similar to the one he was in now. Ethan had been ordered to meet with a high ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. official by his commanding officer. He had no idea who it was or what it was about. It had been one of the few times his snarky tongue had been all but speechless. His weapons had been taken before he arrived which made him even more apprehensive at the time. When he had arrived he had been escorted to his destination by four armed guards. He remembered how massive the building looked as he approached it and how long it had taken him to get to the room he was being directed to. It was the first time he had really understood just how big S.H.I.E.L.D. was. It wasn't just some government branch; it was an entity all its own.

As he entered the office he saw a man standing by a large window, his back to Ethan and the guards, "That'll be all, agents. Thank you." The four other men nodded and left the room. The man's voice was deep and gravely. A hint of a smoker's rasp but so light that it led Ethan to believe he enjoyed the frequent cigar as opposed to a cigarette addiction. As the agent turned he looked the younger man up and down with his one eye, "Ethan Cross. It's good to meet you. Do you know who I am?"

Cross shook his head, "Nope."

The other man smiled slightly, "Good. That's the way its supposed to be. Here at S.H.I.E.L.D. we operate in secret. We aren't super heroes. We aren't supposed to be known."

Ethan shrugged, "Okay....."

The older man continued, "That being said, my name is Nicholas Fury. I'm the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I brought you here after your superior officer, a Colonel Barton, submitted your service record. According to this," Fury held up a file, "you're one of the single best sharpshooters the military has ever seen and your skills seem to migrate to all sorts of weapons, not just rifles; knives, various firearms, even bows and arrows. Impressive."

Ethan nodded, "Thank you, sir. Colonel Barton is too kind."

Fury ignored the pleasantry, "Let's cut the bullshit, son. I brought you here to personally offer you a job. Your training will be tough. Harder than anything you've ever had to do thus far in your life. But when you're done you will be one of the most skilled special agents in the world working for the top security and intelligence organization to ever exist. So, how bout it?"

The younger man nodded, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I accept."

Fury walked around the desk and held out his hand which Cross had happily taken, "Quit with the solider routine. You're not in the U.S. military anymore. Let me be the first to welcome you to S.H.I.E.L.D......Hawkeye."

Yeah....that had been one hell of a day. His first day as an agent. Of course since then he had met with Fury many more times. Cross was loyal to the man. Never was sure how he would react if the great and powerful were dethroned and someone else stepped in to rule Oz. Hopefully, that would never happen. The memory faded as the chopper sat down on the island. He jumped out, grabbing the handled black case that sat next to him as he did. It contained all he needed, his combat suit, weapons, etc. He pushed his sunglasses down a bit to get a better look at the gorgeous blonde woman waiting to greet him. They had worked together before, Tara Campbell, aka Mockingbird, "Ethan Cross. Looks like I'm stuck with you for another round."

He smiled, "Don't lie to me darlin. I know you volunteered for this. Still debating if you want me to scratch that itch you seem to have?"

"The coffee here is completely sub-par but we are a form of the police, so I guess it comes with the territory." Gabrielle said as she walked into the large conference and briefing room. She carried a pot of coffee with her, that she placed on the table.

Andy smiled, as she wrapped one arm around the knee of the leg placed on the chair she sat in. "Or it could be because you're a coffee snob. Do you want all your coffee to be French press?" Andy asked with a grin.

"I believe there's a proper way to do things and usually it's the French way." Gabrielle replied, without a hint of superiority. It was just the way she thought about things.

"Like I've said before, you probably shouldn't have moved to the United States then." A new voice said and Gabrielle and Andy turned to one of the other doors as a man stepped into the room, holding a few folders in one of his hands.

"Clark, you're back."

"That I am. I apologize I missed the Sheppard situation. I hear it was rather...eventful." Clark Dennison said as Gabby shook his hand. "The Africa problem has taken up a lot of time and consideration. Fury wanted to be kept abreast of what Barrington St. Germaine was doing there." He said.

"Strange." Andy said, pointing at Gabby. "She's a hugger."

"I'm not." Clark replied, before extending his hand to Anderson. "Clark Dennison, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." He said and then stopped. "Oh, you already knew that. Sorry, it's a bit of a habit."

"Anderson is hoping for the day when saying that becomes a habit for her." Gabrielle said. "Anderson Reynolds, the first graduate of the Reform program."

Clark nodded. "A former malefactor turned good. It's an ageless story." He said as they shook hands. "Are the others here for the briefing?" He asked and Gabrielle stopped to consider. "I think we're only waiting on Cross and Campbell, which should come as no surprise." He said, sitting down at the table. "Cross is perennially tardy." He said. "But he does have redeeming qualities, can't forget about that."

"Does that mean that I don't have any?" Tara Campbell asked, as she and Ethan Cross walked into the briefing room. "Cause that would hurt, Dennison." She said. "Ethan's a degenerate."

"You only think I'm a degenerate. I'm an upstanding citizen. Tell her, Dennison." Ethan said, dropping into one of the chairs. He gave Gabrielle a wave, before offering a single, solitary head nod in Anderson's direction, whom he had never met before.

Dennison shrugged. "I suppose redeeming qualities should have some kind of standard by which they're graded and ranked. But I digress. You all are here because you're getting an interestingly cool assignment." He said. "The adjective is directly related to the weather. Not necessarily the assignment. Though I guess the assignment could be considered cool." He said and Gabrielle made a circular motion with her hand. "Right. Rambling. Anderson Reynolds, Ethan Cross, and Tara Campbell, you have been selected to go on an all expenses paid trip to Florence, Italy. While you're there, you have been given three passes to attend a gala dinner event in downtown Florence." He said, reading from some papers in the folder. "Agent Campbell, you will be in charge of this operation, with Agents Cross and Reynolds supporting you." He said, and looked over at Gabrielle, who pressed a button on the side of the table.

Panels on one of the walls slid away to reveal screens that started displaying information. Schematics of buildings, pictures of Florence, and pictures of a blond haired man. "This is Mitchell McCourty. He's an HVT, to say the least. An information and arms broker, he services a variety of organizations and people around the world. Malefactors who did not choose to turn good, like Agent Reynolds." Dennison said. "We're not sure why, but he will be in attendance at that party. Your mission is to politely and tactfully observe him, see who he speaks to, and monitor his activities. If anything exchanges hands, we want you to intercept it. Obviously, do not get caught." He said. He looked down at the papers and spoke again, without looking at Anderson. "Agent Reynolds, why the change in face?"

"I know him." Anderson said, quietly. "We may or may not have worked together in the past."

"There was a reason why this was selected as your first mission without your former handlers of Agent Michaels or Agent Myers." Dennison said. "If you choose to exploit your past working relationship with the HVT, that's up to you." He said. "Does anyone have any questions?" Clark asked. "Someone should have questions."

Ethan raised his hand which elicited a raised eyebrow from Dennison, "Seriously, Cross? This isn't kindergarten."

The archer put his arm down and shrugged, "Whatever you say, man. But listen, as far as questions go I've got an important one that I think everyone in this room needs answered."

Dennison shrugged, clearly not entertained by the idea of Hawkeye speaking, "And that is?"

Ethan motioned to the pot of coffee, "With all of the room on this island we haven't gotten a Starbucks over here yet? Seriously?"

Anderson smiled and both Gabrielle and Tara responded in unison, "Don't encourage him."

Cross put his hands up, palms out in a defensive pose, "Woah! Tough crowd. I just wanted to know where I was getting my coffee from. It's really hard for me to start my day without my Grande Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte."

Dennsion quickly moved on, "Any other ACTUAL questions?"

Campbell chimed in, "Why is Shield so interested in this guy? There are plenty of arms dealers out there. And, with all due respect, there is an awful lot of talent in this room. Seems like overkill to send after this guy."

"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you, Agent Campbell.” Dennison said, with a small smile. “Mitchell McCourty is a true master of his craft. I’m sure he’s quite happy being not as high as he could be on most o fate most wanted lists. This is a gentleman who’s been behind a lot of different coups and transfers of power. The work that he has done, it’s been very interesting to follow over the years.”

“Isn’t he rumored to have a hand in what’s happening in Moravnia?” Gabrielle asked and Dennison nodded.

“This is a basic operation, but it’s one that requires a high level of sensitivity, foresight, and skill.” He said. “That’s why we’re sending in as many people as we are.” He finished, turning towards Tara who nodded.

“So we’re only there to watch him?”

“This is not a tag and bag, Ethan, as much as you enjoy those sorts of things.”

“It’s the idea of being tied up against my will.” Ethan said, looking over at Anderson, as if the sentenced needed an explanation, and as if his words were about to make the situation clearer. It didn’t, and they weren’t going to, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

He twirled a pen in his hand and looked over at Dennison, a quick smile on his face, as Anderson’s face shifted to one of confusion, and slight disgust. “If I find a good coffee maker, can I bring it back with me?” He asked.

“Sure.” Clark replied with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Let’s say I have to part with some numerical amount of money and-“

“There’s a different way to count money than through numbers?” Tara asked, shaking her head slightly as she looked at him.

“I don’t judge.” Ethan said, even though that made less sense than the tied up comment. “Anyway, if I have to part with some dollar amount, can I submit receipts for reimbursement?” He asked.

“Sure.” Clark replied with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Awesome. I’ll get us a great coffee maker.”

“I never said it would be approved. Just that you could submit it.” The man with the slightly thinning hair and with the same mild smile that seemed to be permanently etched on his face. “That’s some good tradecraft right there, isn’t it?” He asked, to no one in particular. “Any more questions? No? Alright, good luck.” He said, and turned, walking out of the room.

The plane touched down in Florence, Italy. A chartered jet, it had flown the three of them from New York to Florence in a decent amount of time. But Andy would have preferred the time to have gone by faster than it had. She’d been stuck, on a plane, for hours with Campbell and Cross, who had been sniping at each other. Cross had been doing his best to get on Tara’s nerves, and it turned out that being a great marksman wasn’t his only talent, nor was it the only place where he hit the mark, so to speak. While Mockingbird had probably known all along what he was trying to do, it didn’t mean that she was immune to it, and she’d fallen for it all, hook, line, and sinker. Anderson, for her part, had almost welcomed the distraction in the beginning, until it had started to get annoying to her as well.

A distraction it had been and a nice one.

Mitchell McCourty.

That was a name that she hadn’t heard in a while, and one that she wasn’t too thrilled with having to hear again. A devilishly skilled man, he had applied his acute mind to the practice of crime and with design had ascended with little time. A well thought out planner, Mitchell understood the way that other people thought and knew how to use that against them. She’d been on the receiving end of being burned by him in the past, plenty of times. It wasn’t something that one enjoyed. There was a part of her that was convinced that he had been the one to set her up with Grayson Delancey on that job to break into Chase Enterprises. The one that had ended with her being captured by Tiffany Michaels and Jason Free, transferred to the warm embrace of S.H.I.E.L.D.

While the event had ended up pretty good for her, all things considered, Andy refused to take the slight of being betrayed sitting down. She wasn’t that kind of person and she had enough of her criminal mindset in her to refuse to let him get away with it. It was something she was going to have to try to control while she was on this job. Andy sighed as her feet touched the tarmac.

It was something she was going to have to try to control while she was on this mission.

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying. It’s like you try to make sense, but your head is so messed up that you don’t even approach the logic of a normal person.”

“Normal is boring.” Ethan replied, poking out from the plane after Tara. “Ah, finally back in Italy. They had a good fashion show here a few months ago. We should get to the planning center and figure out our course of attack.”

“I’m in charge, remember?” Tara asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Nobody said you weren’t. Just…keeping us on the right flight plan, birdie.”

“Besides, you have to waste money on a coffee maker.” Tara said as she reached the ground. She looked at Andy. “Ready to go?” She asked.